Numbers
by nursie91
Summary: Remus and Dora survived the war. Teddy grew up, got married, had children. One day, one of those children asked an innocent question. "Grandpa, why do you have funny numbers on you arm?" A random idea after reading something online about the Holocaust. One shot


_I read something yesterday about the Holocaust and I was inspired to write this! it is totally separate from any of my other fics and is possibly a little confusing. In it, Ted and Victoire are married and have five children, Remus and Dora survived the War (of course) and are the much beloved grandparents. _

_This is dedicated to the millions who suffered. Lest We Forget. _

Dora Lupin looked around the sitting room and smiled. They were so blessed, so very blessed. After surviving the Wizarding War she and Remus had spent the next twenty years struggling to raise Ted and change the stigma that werewolves had. They had succeeded in raising Ted and failed in changing the world. Their son, now a father, sat with his wife; Bill and Fleur's Victoire; married for nearly twenty years themselves, had five wonderful children. Dora's eyes turned to where the youngest of her grandchildren, eight-year old Viola, sat on the floor beside Remus' chair. Drawn close to the fire, the warm flames cast shadows over her husband. The years had not been kind to Remus, his hair was completely white now, his body riddled with arthritis that hundreds of transformations had caused, but in that moment, his gnarled hand rested lightly on his grand-daughter's shoulder as she excitedly pointed out pictures in a book, she could see the gentle, brave man she had married a lifetime ago.

They were all home for Christmas, her precious grandchildren. There was young Remus, Rem, at eighteen who was training be an Auror, the image of his grandfather, bent low over a book, studying, even on Christmas Eve. Then was fifteen year old Marielle Adora, Mari to her family, Ellie to her grandfather. Studying her OWLS, the girl had thrown all study aside in favour of playing a game of chess against her twin brother, David. Henri was eleven, in his first year at Hogwarts and was sitting at Dora's feet, casting admiring glances at Rem who jotted down notes as he read.

It was her family, Dora thought contentment in her soul; it was her life. She smoothed Henri's dark blue hair. He was the only one who had inherited his father and grandmother's metamorphagus abilities, much to the jealousy of Viola, and the strangely shy boy held a special place in his grandmother's heart.

"Ha! Beat you!" Mari's triumphant cry caused her family to look towards the chess board where David was frantically looking at an escape.

"How could you beat me?" He demanded, his green eyes were twinkling. "You never beat me! You have been practising with Grandpa again!"

"Me?" Her sparkling blue eyes met her grandfather's and she grinned at him. "Would I do that?"

"Yes." David shoved his sister good naturedly. "You aren't that good!"

"Well, Mr. Ravenclaw, forgive me." She poked her tongue at her brother. "Help me with the potions essay won't you?"

"No!"

"I will help with Defence." She smiled and her brother sighed.

"This is not fair." He announced as he scrambled for his text books. "I am meant to be the smart one yet she rules the whole school in Defence."

Dora saw Remus' proud smile as he turned back to what Viola was saying. When the twins had been born Mari had been tiny, half the size of David, and weak, so very weak. Victoire herself had been ill and Teddy frantic. Remus had rarely let go of the tiny, sickly baby in those days and as she grew stronger and healthier, a strong bond formed between grandfather and grandchild. Or course, Dora's lips twisted with amusement. Neither of them would ever pick favourites. They adored all their grandchildren equally, but there were special spots in their hearts for the 'weak' ones and Mari and Henri had filled them well.

"I told you Nargles were real!" Viola's triumphant cry made Rem look up and grin.

Dora felt a pang. He was Remus fifty years ago.

"You can't argue with that can you, Grandpa?"

Remus' eyes locked on his oldest grandson and his face softened affectionately. "No, my boy, I don't think I can. Was this book from you Aunt Luna, Munchkin?"

Viola giggled and nodded. "Of course, Grandpa. She gave it to me for Christmas! She said that just cause I am too small for Hogwarts doesn't mean I can't learn."

"Your Aunt Luna is a very wise lady."

Viola giggled and pulled at Remus' hand. She suddenly went very still and carefully pushed back the sleeve of his warm jumper.

"Grandpa?"

Remus seemed to have frozen and Dora looked at him anxiously.

"Why do you have a funny number on your arm."

Rem's book hit the floor as he sat upright suddenly, a look of horror on his face. The twins' necks both cracked audibly in the suddenly silent room as they turned to stare at their grandfather. Beside her, Henri had stiffened. Dora half rose but Ted beat her too it. He was crouching beside his father, in front of his daughter before the rest of his family could formulate words.

"Sweetheart, come with me."

"But I want to know, Daddy! Why does Grandpa have numbers on his arm."

Ted looked anxiously at his father's ashen face, the scars of transformations long ago, before the Wolfsbane, stood out in stark contrast. The healers had said they needed to make sure Remus was never stressed or anxious, for his heart; well, an eight year old had shattered both of those rules in a heartbeat.

"Tell her." Remus whispered.

Dora hurried to his side. She was slower now than twenty years ago, but she moved quickly, settling on the arm of his chair and wrapping her arms around him.

Viola looked ready to cry. Ted lifted his daughter into his arms and carried her back to the lounge where he had been sitting with Victoire. By the time he had settled her in his lap Mari was beside her grandfather, holding his hands tightly, her head resting on his knees, Rem was on the opposite arm of the chair as his grandmother, David was sprawled on the floor at their feet and Henri was leaning against his grandmother, his hair white, eyes anxious. Ted felt a surge of love for his children.

"Sweetheart, don't cry. You don't have to cry." Ted wiped the tears from his daughter's cheek. "You know Grandpa is a werewolf?"

Viola nodded slowly. It was something that the children had always known.

Ted looked helplessly at his wife who spoke very gently.

"When Grandpa Remus was young there were many people who didn't like werewolves because some werewolves were bad."

"But Grandpa isn't bad!"

"No, love, he never was. But when the bad werewolves were alive the Ministry decided that if they tattooed all the werewolves they would be able to keep track of them better."

There was a muffled sob from Mari and Rem patted his little sister's shoulder gently.

"So they put that tattoo on Grandpa. It was a very bad time for him, Sweetheart, that's why it made him sad for him to remember it."

Ted whispered something in her ear and Viola slowly looked to where her grandfather was watching her closely, a pained look in his gentle blue eyes. Another whisper from her father and Viola slid off his knee and ran to her grandfather. "I hate those bad men!" She announced.

David and Mari both moved and Viola reached to hug her grandfather. "You aren't bad." She told him. "I'm sorry I made you sad."

"Never mind, Little Lola." Remus pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Each time one of his grandchildren had asked it was the same, gut wrenching agony and terror that perhaps they would see him as a monster and each time it was resolved they would make the same declaration.

"I love you, Grandpa." Viola whispered into his ear and Remus smiled.

"I love you to, Munchkin." His eyes met his son's over his head and he saw the tears in Ted's eyes. They would never have to make that explanation again.


End file.
